No, I didn’t know what he meant by “Lite Wines” either, but our friend “Chum” was having a wine-tasting party, and who am I to turn down free wine? Oh, and in his explanation, Lite Wines are Sauvignon Blanc, Pinot Gregio, no Chardonnay or anything too sweet.
Chum is a wine connoisseur with excellent taste (guess that’s what makes him a connoisseur). He even had tasting worksheets for everyone to help describe what we were tasting. Woodsy? Spicy? Fruity? Tropical fruit? Tree fruit? Hubby is really good at this; he can talk for hours about the distinct flavors in wine, beer and scotch. Me? White wine is either sweet or it’s not, that’s about as descriptive as I get. And, I’d prefer red wine, any way.
But the big deal about this party was that I didn’t want to go. I’d had a bad week, I was tired, and I was feeling really anti-social. Also, I had to go alone because hubby was at work, but he wanted to come when he got off work, so he badgered me into going. Well, maybe not “badger” that seems a bit harsh, so let’s say he was encouraging me to go. And he was right of course, damn it. It was good for me to go and get out of the house and be around people. And I had a great time, so I’m glad I went.
However, I almost turned around and went home with my contribution of Pine Ridge Chenin Blanc. Chum lives in a loft downtown, and I almost didn’t find a parking spot because everyone was downtown for the yearly art show and College World Series celebrations. On my second time around, I found a spot about a block away, so I gave in.
So, I’m walking in my new, cute strapy sandals, hoping that I don’t fall flat on my face, when I hear, “Helllloooooo!” It’s my pastor and her husband, heading back to their car from the art show. I put the bottle behind my back and said, “I’m not carrying a bottle of wine,” and we laughed. She’s actually our Associate Pastor and about 27 years old, so she’s cool. Plus, I’m Methodist, and Methodist can drink. So, we chatted, then I headed to the apartment building, hoping I could remember how to get through security.
I was glad I went early, and I even recognized some people from Chum’s last party and from Hubby’s work. And I have to share this, too, because later in the evening I got a compliment! We, as usual, were two of the last people there, and Chum and I were talking about photography and writing and how I could help him and other stuff. And I don’t know what I said but Chum said, “ You’re what . . . I want . . . (pointed at hubby) When you’re done with him, let me know.” He was drunk and won’t remember, but it’s still a compliment, so I’ll take it. However, he also told me that he didn’t think I could be mean enough about his writing to help him because he thinks I’m too nice. Well, that just shows he doesn’t really know me at all!
So, that was my Friday night. Not bad. Better than Saturday night, which was a “Craft Night” at a friend’s house and all the women brought their babies and all the babies cried incessantly. Can we say “migraine” boy and girls? Ugh. But on the bright side, I got a lot of knitting done that night, so some of my Christmas presents are well on their way to being finished.